A Snowball interlude
by Sheankelor
Summary: How did the meeting with Severus and Wand Master Cummings turn out? How did Harry end up making his own wand shop? Just how much fun could Severus have with a bad tempered portrait? Snowball Chance's Universe


_AN: This was written as a present for Yen, who also took the time to clean it up for me. I hope this conveys all my gratefulness at having known you for these many years.  
_

 _A Snowball Interlude_

Severus watched as Harry stormed into the living room, his eyes flashing with anger.

"I can't believe it, Severus!"

Closing his book, Severus waited for Harry to explain. He could tell the young man was doing his best to calm down first and knew the moment a shuddering sigh filled the room that Harry was ready to continue.

"Master Cummings isn't allowing me to face the Mastery Board." Green eyes flashed again before Harry clamped his hands tightly together. "It was bad enough when he attempted to stop me from becoming a journeyman, and I was actually grateful when he declared I was not going to journey to different masters, though the other journeymen were upset. Now, though, he's denying I am ready. I know I am! I am explaining things to the other journeymen. Tiffany is coming by to have me clarify things, and she received _her_ mastery a year ago."

Severus stayed silent as Harry spun sharply and strode about the room, his angry steps showing his frustration at the situation. Turning his gaze to the fireplace, Severus contemplated if Harry's aggravation was justly put. During his research, he had discovered that most live-in apprentices completed their Wand Mastery in two to two and a half years. Most live-at-home apprentices did so in three years. Harry had been only working at this for two years, so he could understand why Master Cummings felt reluctant to place Harry before the Board. _'But if he is ready, then Harry shouldn't be held back.'_

Harry's steps brought him to a halt in front of Severus' chair, and the young man sighed deeply, his shoulders drooping. "No one but Master Cummings can present me to the Master Board. If he won't say I am ready, then there is nothing I can do."

"Do you honestly know you are prepared?" Severus leant forward in his seat, directing his sternest look into those green eyes. "There is no esoteric bit of knowledge that he has not passed on to you that you need to know?"

Harry sank down onto the edge of the coffee table, his hands resting on his knees. "Every other journeyman there says I am ready, even the new masters I've studied with say I am ready."

"Then, I believe it is the time I met this Master." The widening of Harry's eyes almost made Severus smile.

ハリーポッター セブルススネイプ

His black robes billowing about him, Severus strode through the workroom door behind Harry. Out of habit, he surveyed the students who were brewing and quickly determined which potion they were working on. In the far corner, he spotted Master Cummings helping one of the journeymen correct their potion. It was easy to tell the Cummings had a working knowledge of the potion, but not to the level a Potions Master was required to have – the level of knowledge he himself had drilled into Harry's head. Cummings' correction would work, but was not the best option.

Stamping down on his trained response to correct, Severus waited near the door, unwilling to distract the students while they were working. There were furtive glances cast his way, each one filled with recognition and one or two even a silent, furtive request for help.

Master Cummings spotted Harry and crossed the workroom, his eyes narrowed in question as they darted to Severus and back to Harry. "Pope, I believe you have no reason to be in this room, as you've proven your mastery of the potion we are currently working on."

"I've proven mastery of _all_ the potions, just as I have _proven_ mastery of the different woods and cores." Harry's reply held irritation coated in several layers of syrupy sweet patience.

Cummings straightened to his full height and looked down his nose at Harry – a hard task as he was the younger man's height. "I am not going to debate whether you deserve to be presented to the Board, Pope."

Severus stepped forward, nodding slightly. "Good. Instead of debating, you can provide a list of all that Pope still needs to accomplish: the knowledge he is lacking in, the skills that are still subpar, and sources to study from."

Pale green eyes flashed to him, anger and disdain shining in them. "Who are you?"

The gasps from the journeymen caused Severus to shoot a glare about the room. Teresa Murdock, a former Slytherin, spoke up before he could answer.

"That's Professor Snape, sir. He was Hogwarts' Potions Master for years, and then he was the Headmaster for two years." She turned her attention to him, a small smile curling her lips. "It is good to see you well, sir."

Nodding in acknowledgement, Severus decided not to correct her about his name. Cummings' paling face was enough to let him know his reputation was still thriving.

"Po-Potions Master Snape?" Cummings folded slightly into himself, his hand obviously resting on his wand. "What are you doing here?"

A smirk flashed across Severus' face as he answered. "Pope told me you wished to see me. Admittedly at the time I was busy, but I was able to find a moment today." The smirk faded to a frown. "I do … dislike it when those who are capable are held back from moving on. Almost as much as I dislike incompetent people."

Black eyes swept over Cummings in a transparent assessment, one that didn't show positive results.

Shock covered Cummings' face while understanding – and a bit of envy – covered the other journeymen's. "You … you are the other master that boy has been working with?"

A single nod was all the answer Severus gave. His frown deepened into a glare.

"You aren't a Wand Master!" Cummings raked a glare over Severus before turning the same look onto Harry. "How can working with a Potions Master help you get this far this fast?"

"And how far is that, Master Cummings?" The question was spoken in a quiet tone, one that all Severus' previous students knew. It was one that demanded the absolute truth.

Cummings' attention jumped back to Severus. "Except for one or two simple by-laws, the boy is ready. There is no way a _Potions_ Master was able to teach him all he needed to know!"

"Ah, so he only needs to study the legal section of wand making." Severus shot a glare about the room, causing the journeymen there to quickly check their cauldrons. The ones about to explode were rescued. "He will have it finished by the end of the week."

"You are a Potions Master! Why are you working with Pope?" The words bounced off the walls as Cummings threw up his hands to help emphasise his confusion.

"Since the boy came to see me for help with a potion, I looked into why he needed help and noticed a definite lack of work being done at home. I remedied the lack by holding potion tutoring, and then after that, when he didn't take up the initiative, I made sure he had work to do. A bit of research soon had him reading books, and of course, I demanded written proof of his understanding. I impressed upon him that a live-at-home apprentice must have a solid work ethic. That doesn't change no matter what you are attempting to learn."

The bland expression on Severus' face sharpened once again into a frown. "Of course, that work ethic should be rewarded by being allowed to progress in your field."

Cummings sputtered a moment before huffing. "Books! He has been reading who knows what books? What if the writer was a fraud?"

"You're doubting Snape's ability to determine the validity of a source?" Harry shook his head, disbelief evident in his expression. Severus stopped himself from glancing at him, wondering if Harry had used his old name deliberately or out of habit.

Cummings glared at Harry before snarling at Severus. "He needs to understand the legal ramification of wand making. Until then, he cannot go before the Board."

"If the Wand Mastery Board is anything like the Potions Mastery Board, then go ahead and place his application in. I am positive you are capable of making sure he understands the final bits of his chosen profession." The frown once again became a glare. "If you do not, I will be sure to instruct him in the ways of bringing this … stall … to the notice of the Masters on the Board."

Cummings stared at him, turning pale. Then he huffed again and spun about to look at Harry.

"Pope! You will be in my office tomorrow morning. Be prepared to take notes. Now, be gone."

Spinning the rest of the way about, he stormed away.

ハリーポッター セブルススネイプ

Harry waited, his heart lodged in his chest and pounding fast. Ollivander set the wand onto the counter top, his attention focused solely inside as his fingertips caressed the wand's wood. Finally, the old wand master looked at him.

"You said your master was Cummings?"

The uncertain tone in Ollivander's tone made the question sound as if the man truly didn't believe him.

"Yes, sir. I was a live-at-home apprentice, so I did a lot of studying on my own." Harry tried not to mention Severus at the Potions Master's request but wasn't sure if he was not going to be able to.

The wandmaker smiled, his silver eyes glowing slightly. "That would explain the differences. You were able to break out of the mould he set and learn other techniques. Well done, Mr Po … Pope."

The old man's gaze drifted about his shop, taking in the stacks of boxes before returning to Harry. "I do not need help here, Master Pope. I congratulate you on your Mastery, but I have no desire to allow an Ollivander wand to be created outside of the family."

Harry sighed lightly. He had hoped that he could study under this man and learn the techniques that he developed and had not taught anyone else. They were the reason Ollivander wands were so good, not to mention powerful. "Thank you for considering it, sir."

Garrick Ollivander waved his thanks off before focusing out the window. Holding in another sigh, Harry walked towards the door. It was as he turned the doorknob that Ollivander spoke next. "Your wand, it is well made. Better than anyone else's I have held in a long time. I am tired, Master Pope. My son is not ready to take up the family business and won't be for years. Open your shop soon – I wish to take a sabbatical and finally heal."

Harry turned back and smiled at the man who was now focused solely on him. "I will, sir. What if your son decides not to join the business?"

"Then we will talk about sharing secrets," was the reply, coupled with an enigmatic smile.

ハリーポッター セブルススネイプ

Severus stepped into Number 12 Grimmauld Place, a sigh trapped behind his teeth. He knew the trip to London was necessary, and he agreed with Harry that they didn't need to spend money on a hotel or an inn when there was a perfectly usable house at their disposal. It didn't change the wrenching of his gut every time he walked through the door thanks to the less than pleasant times spent here. A hand sliding down his back distracted him from his musings.

"I just have to stop in at the shop for a bit and then we can stop by Bulstrode Bottled Balms." Harry's hand trailed around Severus' waist as he walked passed. "What room do you want to stay in this time? My old one or your old one? If we take mine we will have to enlarge the bed."

The teasing tone in Harry's voice at the end lightened Severus' heart just a bit.

"Mine then since the bed is already large enough," he replied, lips quirking briefly in reply, "and there should be space in the wardrobe for both of us. At least for the number of days we are going to be here." Severus led the way up the stairs, both of them stealing silently past the portrait of Sirius' mother.

Once they were safely on the first floor, Harry sighed. "One day we shall have to get that portrait off the wall."

"We aren't here long enough to worry about it. Let her have her space, if nothing else, it limits the amount of noise our visitors can make in the front hall." Severus opened the door to the bedroom and was pleased to see Kreacher had cleaned up.

"But it will make celebrating Christmas difficult." Harry enlarged his trunk and set it on a luggage cradle. Opening it, he began filling the wardrobe and the dresser.

"I thought we were going to the Weasleys' for Christmas." Severus joined Harry in unpacking. They only planned to be there for a week so there was plenty of room in the old dresser for both of their things. "If that is still the case, then we should be fine. All the noise will be over there, not here."

Harry threw a knitted blanket over the foot of the bed. "But what about Death? Surely she will have a fit when he comes by."

Severus smiled slightly. He wanted to see just how Walburga would handle Death. He was pretty sure she would be as quiet as a mouse. Even portraits know who not to make mad. "It shall be an interesting confrontation, don't you think?"

He laughed lightly at the comical widening of Harry's eyes. "Where do you want the tree? Shall we put it right where she can see it when the parlour door is open?"

Harry shook his head as he answered. "Near the windows would be great."

ハリーポッター セブルススネイプ

The curtain that covered Walburga's flung open when the tree trunk bumped the hand rail for the stairs.

"Filthy half-bloods! You still dare set foot in my house! Where are you going with that evergreen!?"

Harry rolled his eyes as he manoeuvred the tree towards the parlour door. Severus answered her, a slightly malicious tilt to his lips. "It is sad that a pure-blood such as yourself would not realise we are setting up a Christmas tree in the parlour. Did you use to put yours in the dining hall?"

"Get out of _My House!_ "

"The deed says it belongs to Harry and he is sharing it with me – it is no longer your house." Severus watched as the top of the tree brushed the house-elf heads that were also permanently affixed to the wall. He wondered if it was elf-magic adhering them there and that was why no wizarding spell would release them. If so, then he suspected it had been Kreacher who hung Walburga's portrait. "That is one of the problems with dying – things that were once yours go to someone else and there is nothing you can do about it. Even if you became a ghost."

"Scum! Get out! This is the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black! Not … not of whatever your family might be, you filthy half-blood."

Severus helped the tree top through the parlour door. "Pope, though I also hail from the Prince line. The one that owns the house is descended from the House of Black – one that still resides on the tapestry."

"That half-blood is not a Black! There is no way he is related to me!"

Harry's head popped through the doorway. "I am glad you think so – you're crazy, insane, and remind me too much of Bellatrix." Turning his attention to Severus, he folded his arms. "Now, if you are finished conversing with paintings, we have a tree to decorate, and then we are expected over at the Weasleys' for dinner."

"Blood Traitors! NO kin of mine would dine with such loathsome filth!"

Stepping through the door, Severus called back over his shoulder. "And yet a child of your union did regularly."

Harry shook his head at the unholy screeching that filled the hall. "Really, Severus, was that necessary?"

"Necessary? No. Satisfying? Yes." Severus studied the layout of the room and compared it to the size of tree Harry insisted on. "There is not enough room next to the windows."

"Then I guess it will have to go near the sitting area." Harry moved the tree stand before pulling his wand. A quick spell had the tree in place. "The baubles or the fairy lights first?"

"NO FAIRY LIGHTS!" Walburga's shout was heard clearly through the open parlour door.

Harry looked at Severus. "What? How can you have a Christmas tree without fairy lights?"

"Maybe she used doxies?" Severus spoke loud enough for his voice to carry to the hallway.

The outraged screech from the hall brought another smile to Severus' face. He was glad Kreacher wasn't there, though. Harry had let Hogwarts borrow him to direct the making of the Christmas crackers.

"A tree is not dignified with those vain creatures on it! Not that a half-blood like yourself would understand dignified."

"Fairy lights first, Harry. They can help move the baubles into place if they want." Raising his wand, he summoned the brightly glowing creatures, who immediately flitted to the tree and draped themselves on the branches.

"Kreacher! Kreacher! Get those _things_ out of MY HOUSE!"

Harry darted up the stairs to retrieve that box of decorations they found in the attic earlier. He flashed Walburga a grin as he passed her. "Kreacher is at Hogwarts right now, and don't bother telling him to get rid of the fairies when he gets back. I will make sure he knows that they are to stay."

"My elf... he is my elf..."

Severus stepped into the hall, making a show of holding the already opened door for Harry. "Ah, but you are dead. By the way, I suggest you discuss the rights of the dead with our Christmas guest. He might not be a published, renowned expert, but I think he is definitely a definitive source."

"Who?! Who are you speaking of? Who are you inviting to My House?!"

"Invite? I never said we invited him, he just shows up." Severus walked back into the room, calling over his shoulder. "But then again, not many people would invite him."

"Filthy wretched creature! You just let uninvited people in?"

Severus and Harry ignored the portrait as they continued to decorate the tree, purposefully placing more baubles and other decorations that caused Walburga to yell.

ハリーポッター セブルススネイプ

Severus' gift for Death – a jar of improved version of scythe polish that he brewed that week – was wrapped in dark green paper, set off by an equally muted burgundy ribbon. Harry's carved wooden shelf was wrapped in a paper covered in Christmas trees which flashed all the colours of the rainbow and the bow looked like a star from the top of a tree.

They had exchanged their own gifts in their room, breakfasted in the kitchen with Kreacher before they settled in the parlour. The door was propped open and the tree dominated anyone's view if they were to look in. Tiny fairies danced from branch to branch, and a few were flitting about the curtains and the mantle above the fireplace.

Harry and Severus were sipping their tea with a third cup waiting with the service. Kreacher had brought the third cup with a grave shake of his head at the name of the expected guest.

As silent as one would expect, Death ghosted into the parlour and propped his scythe against the wall near the door.

"Good morning, Death, and Merry Christmas!" Harry stood up and smiled at the skeletal form as he gestured towards an empty seat. "Please, join us."

"Merry Christmas," Death replied. He settled into the offered chair and looked around, seeming to see the entire house; not just the parlour they were sitting in.

Severus poured tea and noted the knitted belt around Death's waist. A glance out the window proved it was a blustery day. He held back a smile as he handed over the cup. "There was no issue in the entry way?"

Death shook his head. He remembered Walburga Black, she had been very pleased to be escorted to the afterlife. One simple tilt of his scythe with his bony fingers clicking on the handle had succeeded in silencing the portrait of that lady just as she opened her mouth. Her eyes had widened before her mouth snapped shut. She looked as if she was choking on questions she couldn't bear to ask yet desperately wanted answers to. "No, none."

Severus and Harry's eyes met, both attempting to hide their disappointment. Breaking eye contact with Severus, Harry pushed his present closer to Death and sat back in his seat. "I do hope you have a use for it."

Setting his cup of tea to the side, Death opened his gift, feeling his eye sockets smart from the explosion of colour on the wrapping paper. "I believe I have the perfect spot for it."

He did his best to hide his pleased reaction when he opened Severus' gift. The scythe polish was something he now used at least every other day; nothing like the shine on his blade to induce awe in his clients. Looking between the two men, he took out a wrapped present and handed it to them.

Severus opened Death's gift as it was his year to do so. Once upon a time, he had been paranoid Death would somehow place a curse or a jinx on the present. He had always been proved wrong, so this year he opened it without scanning it. The box opened to reveal a knitted tea cosy in black and white checks, and knitted placemats in a grey and white zigzag pattern for the table.

"Lovely!" Harry slipped the cosy around the teapot. "And it fits!" He beamed at their guest. "Thank you."

Death waved the thanks away, ignoring the small warmth blossoming in his chest. He searched their expressions, and then stood up, holding his gifts. "Thank you for the tea and gifts." Manners had to be observed, no matter that he was here just to remind them of their deal. "I have a scheduled appointment, but… I… will see you two soon."

He attempted – rather belatedly – to make the last few words sound menacing, but to his dismay, the two wizards just smiled. Catching up his scythe, he strode out the parlour door with Severus and Harry trailing right behind him.

Severus watched as Death cast a look at the quivering curtains that hung on either side of Walburga's portrait. Nothing happened.

With an air of smug satisfaction, Death left.


End file.
